Massage
by whoa nellie
Summary: PWPseriously, absolutely no plot here. Chakotay helps Beverly relax after a long, hard day.


Title: Massage

Author: Whoa Nellie TNG

New 1/1

Rating: R

Codes: C/Chakotay

Summary: PWP--seriously, pure smut. Chakotay helps Beverly relax after a long, hard day. This is an edited-down version. If you are over 18 and would like to read the original, it can be found on the Sci-Fi Romance Website through the link on our author page.

Author's note: Reasons of the Heart timeline. Feel free to archive to any pertinent site.

As always: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have a lot more fun playing with them.

Feedback is always appreciated - posted or e-mail.

MASSAGE

Dr. Beverly Crusher groaned in relief as she entered her quarters. "You are such a sweet man," she exclaimed. "Dinner ready, table set, candlelight . . . you'd make some lucky woman a great husband."

"I'd ask you to marry me, but my wife might object," Chakotay chuckled. "Long day, sweetheart?"

She shrugged off her lab coat and smiled gratefully at him when he took it from her to put away. "I think the babies sent some secret memo around to coordinate their births. I had three women in active labor simultaneously on top of several crew members who have picked up on that Tsunkatse thing you brought back from the Delta Quadrant. I'd rather they played Parrises Squares or even boxed, there's fewer injuries involved."

He led her over to the bed and knelt down to remove her boots. "I'm sorry about that, it was a lot of fun to watch up until we found out that most of the participants were being conscripted and forced to fight. At least here it's a voluntary activity."

"And according to the crew involved in today's matches," she commented with the barest hint of a grin, "there's a lot more skill and technique required than for an activity like boxing."

He gently tapped the end of her upturned nose. "Behave yourself or I won't give you the massage I was planning to."

"Bribing a Starfleet officer?"

Stripping off her uniform top, he kicked off his own boots and coaxed her onto the bed face-down. He straddled her hips. "Call it an incentive program."

Beverly moaned aloud when his strong hands began massaging her back. The hard knots made her wince, but then his long, nimble fingers worked their magic to ease the tension. Her eyes drifted shut as he leaned forward to massage her shoulders and neck, brushing her hair off to the side. One by one, tight muscles from her neck down to her hips unwound under the pressure of his talented hands. She was feeling more and more relaxed as he worked and she barely even registered when he eased her pants down her legs and off. She purred contentedly under the attentive and tender ministrations of her husband. His hands moved lower, kneading her hips and thighs. A warm tendril of desire began winding its way through her and she started to roll over.

"No," he caught her and held her still. "Just lie still, let me."

She squirmed restlessly. "Chakotay."

"I know," he soothed, running his hands along her spine. "It's all right, I promised you a massage and I'm always thorough in the completion of my duties." He loved taking care of her--not that she needed it, but that made the fact that she allowed him to take care of her all the more precious. She was breathing unsteadily, whimpering and clutching the pillow under her head; her writhing motions kept bringing her hips into contact with his body and sorely testing his control. Trailing a finger lightly over the fireball tattoo on her hip, he was rewarded with louder moaning. When he drew his finger up the inside of her thigh, she gasped and her hips bucked up off the bed. He slid his knees under her, massaging her more intimately.

Beverly tried to push herself back, but he was holding her hips to prevent her from moving. It did feel like the relaxing actions of his hands on her back and shoulders; however, it was having the opposite effect. She clutched the pillow under her head, the pleasure radiating through her an exquisite sensation.

He had only intended to massage her but the moans of pleasure as he kneaded her trim, lithe body had been his undoing. A sheen of sweat covered her creamy white skin and a lock of hair fell across her cheek, obscuring his view of her beautiful features contorted with passion. She felt so good.

"I married a truly talented man," Beverly gasped several minutes later between panting breaths.

Chakotay leaned forward to kiss a sweat-dampened shoulder. "Somehow I doubt that I'll see this ability on my annual performance report."

She rolled to her side, confused when she felt him leave the bed. "Where are you going?"

"I lost a poker hand to Commander Riker in the game you missed last night," he admitted. "According to the terms of the bet, I'm now in the rotation for bridge duty. I have the bridge in about fifteen minutes and no, I didn't plan for this to happen. I was just going to help you relax so you could sleep easier, but I got a little carried away."

"Oh, it was my pleasure," she assured him. She watched as he pulled a clean uniform out to change. "I'm feeling very relaxed right now."

Chakotay sat beside her on the bed to pull his boots on. He leaned over to give her a soft, lingering kiss. "I love you, Fireball. Your dinner should still be warm, get something to eat and then get some sleep. I'll be back in time to have breakfast with you in the morning."

Beverly caressed the dimple in his cheek. "I love you, Chakotay. I'm going to be dreaming of breakfast in bed with you, food optional. Just a little something for you to think about in that command chair all night."

"You're all heart."

FINIS


End file.
